


Hailing Frequencies Open

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ace Erwin, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Has OCD, Levi swears a whole lot, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Star Trek References, as we might expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: Levi is a perpetually pissed off, cleaning compulsive, grade-A asshole who may or may not have a romantic side buried deep, deep down. Now though? He just wants his Netflix account fixed. He's not prepared for the nerdy service rep who barges in and confuses his poor, homosexual heart.





	Hailing Frequencies Open

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [FYEF_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FYEF_2018) collection. 



> I changed the ending a little, but beyond that I hope the poster enjoys this fic! 
> 
> Please see the end notes for more info on this fic's inspiration. Also, brownie points for spotting my favorite recently cancelled show :/

"This is some shit icing atop a shit cake with some damn shit sprinkles for color. Eat _shit_ already."

"You're so creative when you're mad," Hange said. They used a tone that Levi honestly couldn't decipher as earnest or sarcastic, and ultimately it didn't matter because they leaned across the conveyor belt, fiddled underneath, and within thirty seconds had the useless thing up and running again. Levi glared at the machine in disgust.

"How," he demanded.

"It just likes me better."

"Only because it can't see your face, four-eyes. Hello. How are you. Did you find everything you needed today."

Insults segued directly into the prepared customer speech. Levi's tone didn't get any warmer. It was clear they weren’t actually questions. The woman set her zucchini and a six-pack of beer down with extreme hesitation.

Levi's eye twitched. "Now what the fuck are you gonna do with those?"

"Okaaaay," and Hange was there. They gripped Levi firmly by the shoulders, re-assigned him to bagging, and skillfully started up a conversation with the woman. Soon she was speaking animatedly about her corgis as Levi glowered. He set the beer and zucchini in a plastic bag with excruciating slowness.

"Thank you!" Hange chirped, actually managing to infuse the words with real enthusiasm. The woman was all bright smiles as she collected her change, though it flickered and died as she caught sight of Levi again. She eased carefully around him. There was a very cornered-rabbit look in her eyes.

"Come again," he said. It might have been his imagination, but Levi was pretty sure she shook her head—just a minute, insulting movement before she was skittering out the doors. He dug his nails into the fabric of his slacks.

It was too much.

There was the daily grind and then there was the _daily grind_ , the endless, monotonous routine that ate at his patience as well as his sanity. Levi had little voices in the back of his head that always said the same things about this gig: “Belligerent beggars can't be choosers” (Erwin), “Working in an organic food market must be amazing!” (Mike and his freaky nose), “Why don't you try people watching to pass the time?” (Petra, conveniently forgetting that Levi hated people), and “Just get through it so you can get at the drinks” (fucking Pixis). None of it quite compared though to—

"Isn’t it fascinating?"

6:25pm and the lines were winding down, because who the hell wanted to do their grocery shopping at 6:25 on a freaking Tuesday? Petra liked people watching, but Hange was all about scientific observation. Even now they were up on tiptoe, head swerving between the child pulling boxes of Gushers out of a display stand and the old man trying to secretly scratch his ass; the woman down aisle six who’d been debating over green beans for five goddamn minutes and the couple making out over by the cantaloupe. Fascinating? More like disgusting.

“Studying our species, freak?” Levi asked. He was more than half convinced that Hange was an alien sent specifically to drive him to an early grave. “Don’t bother. We deserve extermination.”

Hange leaned their elbows on the belt and fiddled with one of the bags. “You’re a sourpuss today,” they said. “Even moreso than usual. Did Erwin lecture you about priority spending again? Because he’s right, Levi, you need stuff other than cleaning supplies in that apartment of yours. Like food! You can’t steal is all from here.”

“Hn.”

He wasn’t dignifying that with a response. Even just thinking about it sent an itch crawling up Levi’s spin and his eyes honed in on the dust between the rows of candy bars beside them, the unidentifiable stains on the floor that never let up, no matter how many times Levi scrubbed at them. With a curse he snatched a small bottle of Purell, broke the seal, and dumped a generous amount onto his hands. Levi lathered up to his forearms.

Hange sighed. They slipped a few bucks from their back pocket into the register. “That kind of day?”

“Yes.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright. Look, it’s a slow night and we’ve only got half an hour of our shift left. Why don’t you clock out early? Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you.”

Levi stood there. Teasing he could do, but heartfelt gestures? Not so much. He focused on the relaxing tingle in his hands from the disinfectant until he could finally up one of the dividers. Levi poked Hange with it. They laughed.

“You’re welcome.”

Shit job, shit life, but Levi definitely didn’t have shit friends. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that.

Suddenly, the idiot child pulled one too many boxes of Gushers out and the whole display came down with a massive crash. Levi closed his eyes.

Or maybe the universe was just trying to create some kind of balance.

“Oh boy,” Hange grinned through, cocking their head in interest as the woman snagged her kid and literally ran, determined not to take responsibility for this clusterfuck. There was a smattering of applause.

“Why don’t you steal some dinner on your way out?”

Levi did just that. With relish.

***

Home wasn’t much more comforting. It was clean though. Levi toed off his shoes just inside the door and shook his coat out in the hallway, letting all the Fall debris he’d accumulated drift onto the carpet. No one would notice the difference. It wasn’t that kind of establishment.

“Cheap though,” Levi muttered.

He might be poor, but he wasn’t hopless. Levi had carved out a decent space for himself here, with well-worn furniture purchased from reputable second hand stores or otherwise donated from his friends. His kitchen was small but serviceable, his bed better than the crap floors he’d slept on as a kid. College had never been his thing, but Levi had plenty of paperback books, and his job at the grocery store kept his rent paid, his clothes patched, his stomach (mostly) fed, and with just enough left over to save up for something better. The only luxury he really had was his third-hand laptop and a Netflix account.

He needed his _Black Mirror_ fix, dammit. Was that really so much to ask?

“Not like I’m not living that shit already,” Levi said, pulling out the stolen ramen packets from the back of his slacks. He stared at them a moment, blank faced, and just contemplated the ultimate cliché that was his life. Nothing for it though. With a sigh he dumped an unmeasured bunch of water in his pot and threw it on high. He’d mix the chicken and shrimp together, act like he was getting the special at some fancy-pants restaurant. Fan-fucking-tastic.

His old fashioned burner was shit too and always took forever. While Levi waited for it to heat he washed his hands, combed his hair, went back to really get under his nails, and finally settled down with his laptop. It screamed as it booted up and Levi stared at it in slight horror.

He absently pat the keyboard. “Jesus Christ, take a breath why don’t you.” The laptop did, fans whirring with so much drama. Levi rolled his eyes. “You going to function now? Oh wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m _so_ grateful. Light a match and fucking burn me already.”

His queue was a welcome sight though and Levi knew exactly what he’d be watching tonight. Season 2 of _Sense8_ had been released that morning and he could think of no better way to cheer himself up than by watching Sun beat the shit out of her crap brother. Or Nomi bankrupting some terf. Or hell, he’d even take Will standing there looking pretty. Honestly, if Hange didn’t watch this show soon Levi was going to personally show up at their house and shove it down their throat.

Relaxation awaited him... until Levi actually got his butt on the couch and the whole damn screen went black.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, fucking _no_ , don't you even dare." Levi pounded the space bar rapidly, but nothing happened. " _Work_ , you useless machine, or so help me I will turn you into scrap."

His shit computer didn't respond to the threat. It just sat there, taunting him.

Except it wasn't his computer that was the issue, apparently. In a moment of rare, technologic insight Levi found the escape button and breathed a sigh of relief when his desktop came back into view. Except that when he tried going back to Netflix he just got that damn black screen again. New tab. Fine. Email. Fine. He tried logging in again and, wouldn’t you know it? Fucking black. Levi was gripping the sides of his laptop so hard he thought he might leave dents.

"I am a marginally decent person," he said. "I don't deserve this," and with that conviction Levi did what he always did in a crisis.

Call Erwin.

" _You can't be serious_."

The groan was pained and clearly muffled by a pillow. Ah. So he'd been asleep. Levi snuck a look at the clock and though it early by any normal person's standards, Erwin didn't have the most normal of jobs. He was a military dog, some official type will all sorts of pretty medals pinned to his shirt, but it was all garnered from his work in intelligence. Apparently the big boss men didn't give a damn about time zones or sleep schedules—the country's enemies certainly didn't—so Erwin was on call pretty much 24/7, catching rest whenever he could. Levi wondered how long he'd gotten to sleep this time. He wondered if he should feel guilty.

Nah.

"Netflix won't work," Levi said, skillfully ignoring the longer groan that sounded in response. He smacked his keyboard in irritation. "Do something."

" _Do something? Levi, do I look like a technician to you?_ "

"Truth? You look like a steroid-pumped moose, and that's on your good days. But you're powerful, yeah? Pull some freaking CSI bullshit, Erwin. You're really telling me you can't fix a simple Netflix account?"

There was pointed silence on the other end, until: " _I feel like I've been insulted. On multiple levels_ —"

"You have."

"— _but that doesn't change a damn thing, Levi_." He could easily imagine Erwin rolling onto his back now, one hand scrubbing wearily at his eyes. After a moment he sighed. " _You have a bad day?_ "

Levi's jaw tightened. "The worst."

" _Want to talk about it?_ "

"Who are you? Hange? Fuck no."

" _Take your meds?_ "

"Don't treat me like a child, Erwin."

" _Wake me up when I've had more than an hour of sleep and maybe I'll be kinder_ ," he snapped. " _Have you eaten at least?_ "

"Yes—" Levi was about to say, until he realized that he actually hadn't. With the kind of growing horror that slowed down time he looked up at his kitchenette, saw the boiling water now frothing and overflowing the pot; the ancient pot itself looking a little too red along the edges. With a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush Levi was out of his seat and across the room in an instant, leaving his cell and the faint " _Levi?_ " alone on the ratty couch.

It was, as they say, the last straw for a poor, abused camel.

Levi kept up his litany as he tore the water off the burner, managing to catch some across his wrist in the process. His howl must have been heard well enough because Erwin's call got a little louder, but Levi ignored it. With single-minded focus he dumped the water, rinsed the pot, spread antibiotic on his wrist, cleaned up the spills, went back to apply more ointment, went back with the rag once again. A good fifteen minutes had passed before he'd calmed and with a last burst of rage Levi tossed the two ramen packets unopened into the trash. Screw those.

He marched back to the couch.

"No," he bit off. "I haven't eaten."

On the other end Erwin sighed again—because of course he was still there and of course he was at his wits end. That was the very foundation of their relationship and if Levi had been in even a slightly better mood, he might have found humor in that.

" _Are you okay?_ " he asked tiredly.

"Ye—"

" _Good_ ," Erwin interrupted. " _Then call customer service. Get your Netflix fixed. Binge for a while. Call me back when eight hours have passed and you're ready to act like an adult._ " With that Erwin hung up.

Levi stared at the phone for a moment. "Fucker."

There was an undercurrent of fondness though, especially since the bastard was right. Levi closed his eyes a moment before navigating to Netflix's contact page, requesting a live text chat. He couldn't deal with actually talking to anyone else right now.

His little link said to expect a six to ten minute wait, but Levi was pleasantly surprised when someone immediately popped onto his screen. The little grey name beside the Netflix profile photo said 'Eren.'

_Greetings! This is Captain Eren Jaeger of the Federation ship Neflix. Hailing frequencies are open and fully functional. May I ask what member of the crew I'm speaking with today?_

...what the fuck?

Levi just stared at the screen, wondering if too little food and too much shit had rattled his brain. After a long moment another text message popped up.

_Hello? This is the USS Netflix sending out standard greetings in all languages. We come in peace and only wish to help!_

Dear god the guy was serious. Levi scrubbed at his face and took just another second to decide.

He fucking LOVED _Star Trek_.

_this is captain levi of the freighter Shithole. reading you loud and clear_

_Wonderful! Always glad to speak with another captain. And, uh... 'Shithole'? Fascinating vessel you got there._

Levi sat back, smirking. He glanced around his apartment before settling back with his computer.

_it's a rundown piece of junk, but it gets the job done. usually_

_Of course! So, what seems to be the trouble? Don't worry, our ship is outfitted with the best tech and we have a team of ensigns just waiting to get your vessel back in tip-top shape!_

God this Eren was a chipper thing. Who the fuck was this upbeat handling client issues at—Levi checked the clock—8:13 at night? Still, he could admit that it was amusing. In a stupid sort of way.

_uh huh. they'd better_. Levi considered. _there's a big problem in engineering_

_What's the problem exactly?_

_damn screens are all black_

_All screens or just the main viewer, sir?_

_main viewer_

_And is your freighter a class Windows or Macintosh?_

Levi snorted. _mac_

_Excellent! A moment, Captain. I'm reviewing our computer banks for possible solutions. I have no doubt that many esteemed vessels like the Enterprise have encountered similar issues. I'll let you know what their logs report in just a second._

Eren was true to his word. Less than a minute later he came back with a number of troubleshooting suggestions, listing each with a friendly and appropriately _Star Trek_ themed response. Levi, never good with his computer at the best of times, actually understood the mumbo jumbo being spewed at him. Sure, most of it was idiotically simple shit like, "Please exit all other browsers, sir" and "Set phasers to Chrome setting. Safari tends to be dangerous..." but he also managed to update some random thing called a Silverlight Plug-in and honestly, if that wasn't a miracle after the day he'd had, Levi wasn't sure what was.

Within less than ten minutes he booted Neflix back up and there it was, his queue ready and waiting.

"Finally," he said. Levi started to type, pulled back, then wrote,

_systems fully operational... thanks_

_Not a problem, sir! Are there any other engineering issues I can help you with today?_

Again Levi hesitated. He kind of wished there were, but...

_no._

_Then it was wonderful to meet you, Captain! Please let the Federation know if you were satisfied with this ship's assistance and I hope you have a safe yet exciting journey out in space!_

Two seconds later and Eren's name disappeared. In its place was a simple grey box: _Were you satisfied with your Netflix experience?_ Levi numbly scrolled over to check 'yes,' staring at the _Thank you for your feedback!_ he got in response. It had the same good grammar, even the same stupid exclamation point, but it was pretty damn obviously just a generated message. Not... Eren.

Levi stood. With simple, mechanical movements he wiped down his keyboard with a disinfectant wipe. He fished the ramen packets out of the trash, washed his hands, got so far as to put more water in the pot—and then stopped. He thought about calling Erwin again, or even Hange. Levi eventually settled back on the couch. He stared at the _Sense8_ banner, but didn't bother starting the show.

He felt better than he had all day. He also, somehow, felt worse.

"Huh," Levi said. Then, a second later, "Fuck."

***

Working at a grocery story was pure monotony: bag these foods, ring up this customer, clean that aisle for the third time this week (although Levi didn't mind that last bit too much). It gave him a lot of time to think and while normally that wasn't much of an issue, Levi didn't understand why the ever loving _fuck_ he was thinking about this.

Eren.

"Oh, I know that look," Hange sang. They ignored Levi's glare and trotted down the aisle, dragging their own mop in a messy streak that made Levi's eye twitch. They stopped far too close and then leaned in even closer. "You've met someone~"

"No," Levi intoned. It was true enough. He hadn't _technically_ met Eren.

Hange wagged a finger under his nose. "Nah uh, you're not trying that with me. Most people might think your resting bitch face never changes, but I know better. That's the exact same look you had around Erwin before you realized he was ace."

Levi glared. "There's no look."

"It's the face you had for that guy at the club last month. Same one you had for me before we actually spent more than five minutes together." Hange cackled. "Oh my god, you think I actually missed that? Please. You're such a hopeless romantic. I see it even if the rest of the world can't." They nearly got beaned by Levi's mop as they went in to pinch his cheek. "C'mon, spill. What cutie have you fallen for this time?"

In any other situation Levi would have hit Hange behind the knees and left them there on the wet floor to rot. The problem was that he _did_ want to talk about it. Eren had been hanging around in Levi's thoughts for a good half a day now—which was more than Levi could say about most of the human race. The fact that the whole damn situation was hopeless didn't lessen the itch.

"...I didn't actually meet him," Levi finally muttered which, again, was kind of true. "Service chat for Netflix."

Hange beamed. They were clearly giving this as much attention as they would any other 'curious' interaction. Levi had the sinking feeling that he may have just made a horrific mistake.

"That's good!" they whispered, somehow leaning even closer, like they were sharing a big, exciting secret. "He's smart then—technical—clearly able to get into the good graces of a big-ass company. Not too above you though. If he's just a service rep then he's probably only making a few bucks more than minimum wage. And charismatic. Patient. You've gotta be to deal with pissed off customers all day. He sounds _wonderful_."

Levi stared. "You're nuts, four-eyes. We deal with pissed off customers all day and I'm sure as fuck not 'charismatic.'"

"Implying that Eren is though. Otherwise you would have just told me I'm wrong about him." Hange bounced in place, nearly vibrating with energy. "What else? Was he nice? Sexy writing style? Tell you anything about himself?"

Yes and... yes. Levi hadn't given it much thought at the time, but Eren did write rather well. Levi stopped and stared hard at the cans of tomato sauce, horrified that he was even acknowledging this.

"Shit for brains," he muttered, whether at Hange or himself he wasn't sure. "He just fixed my Netflix account."

"Did he _sexily_ fix your Neflix account?"

"No! What does that mean? I don't even know what he looks like."

"Well that's easily fixed." Hange stole his mop and leaned it against the foodstuffs. "C'mon. We're due for a break anyhow."

Levi didn't think that was true, but even he was getting sick of staring at the vaguely brown water; the streaks on the tile that _still_ wouldn't go away. With a sigh he followed Hange towards the employee break room and as he did he said softly, completely against his will,

"Eren likes Star Trek."

The grin Hange shot him let Levi know he was truly, royally fucked.

***

Eren—damn him—was gorgeous.

Levi was back on his couch, this time with food (if overcooked pasta with cheese could be called food), and a Facebook profile up that he'd been obsessing over for two goddamn hours. With just a first name, his company, and some technologic magic that Levi wasn't sure he wanted to know about, Hange had managed to find his Eren. Or at least the most likely candidate.

_It's him_ , Levi thought, scrolling through the feed.

Eren had a close circle of friends that he seemed very at ease with—playfully grinding his fist into the hair of a young Asian girl and reading beside a blonde haired boy, sharing the same book. Eren had a host of stupid selfies and pictures of shit like sunsets and flocks of birds. Eren wasn't just a happy doofus though. Eren wrote candidly about dropping out of college the first time. Eren was back at community college, half time while he worked with Neflix. Eren had an all caps rivalry with some guy named Jean. Eren had a much more serious temper when it came to racists and TERFS. Eren had a memorial post for his dead mom and a status update about how _Wonder Woman_ was going to be the bomb.

Eren remained gorgeous.

Levi stood and ambled over to his tiny, spotless bathroom. There he leaned on the sink a moment before turning on the water and soaping up his hands. He worked between his fingers and under his nails as he thought this through. Levi tried to imagine how a broke, perpetually annoyed, zero prospect asshole like himself might make headway with a guy like Eren. By the time he was drying his hands the impossibility of the situation was pretty damn clear. Besides, it wasn't like Levi even had a real chance of talking with him again. That Facebook guy might not be the right Eren (it was). His contact info was private. The chances of Levi getting him again through Netflix were slim to none. Who knew how many gorgeous reps the shit company had working for them.

It was that impossibility that drove Levi back to his laptop, booting up Chrome and navigating to Netflix's support page.

_If there's no chance of getting Eren again_ , he thought, _there's no fucking harm in trying, right?_

Yeah right.

Wait.

"Oh fuck—" Levi said, but by then he already had a chat window open and three awful little dots told him that someone else was typing. It was too late. It was too fucking late and now he had to explain to some random, underpaid worker that he didn't actually have a technical issue, he was just enamored with a cute guy who'd been relatively nice to him—even though that was his _job_ —and Levi was a pathetically needy little shit who enjoyed encouraging his own suffering—

_This is Netflix support. My name is Eren. How can I help you today?_

No. _No_. Levi checked the profile just in case. Same Netflix logo. Same grey 'Eren' beside it. No way. No fucking way was this happening.

_Hello?_

Levi's fingers felt numb as he typed.

_that isn't the proper greeting on this channel, captain. careful. you'll get a citation._

_Captain Levi?!?_

You couldn't put much stock in reading the emotions behind texts, but Levi had the sudden, powerful sense that Eren was genuinely glad to hear from him. Why, he couldn't say. It wasn't like they'd actually gotten to know each other. Huh. That was probably for the best. If they had Eren definitely wouldn't be this excited.

Still, Levi smiled. It wasn't a large thing, wasn't really anything the average person could spot, but it was there, small and simple and all stupidly warm. Goddammit. Loath though he was to admit it, Hange was right. What idiot god made _him_ a romantic?

_what? you don't hail other ships with the kinda respect I got last night?_

_Actually... that's the first time I've ever tried that. Pretty much thought I'd get laughed/yelled at, ngl. But you were great!! It was fun. And it seemed... IDK, off to try it with someone new._

Alright. That shouldn't make him feel this happy but dammit, it did. Not just the fact that Eren thought they'd shared something special ( _he didn't say that, you fool_ ) but also that his writing style was loosening up. Levi briefly touched the acronyms, realized what he was doing, and snatched his hand back fast. He furiously rubbed the smudge away with his shirt.

Levi dithered for a minute, wiping his hands slowly up and down his thighs. Finally he typed:

_guess that makes you a fucking nerd_

Wait. No. Shit. That was the opposite of a nice response. Great job, Levi! Real A+ material.

Except Eren was typing back a millisecond later and it wasn't the scathing retort that Levi expected.

_I am. Ngl I totally am. Got into ST late, my first run at college, and I always liked to pretend that I Kirk, you know? Except Mikasa (she's my sis) says I'm more like Worf: good heart, kinda awkward, defined by the words "fight me." Direct quote there. Can't say she's wrong..._

Levi pressed a hand over his mouth, almost laughing. It was a rare feeling.

_Guess working at Netflix equals automatic nerd status, huh? Don't they say we're inheriting the Earth or something though? And hey! You took to the role-play just as fast!_

There were a couple seconds of dead silence in Levi's apartment.

_...not_ role-play _, role-play. You know what I mean. Shit. Are you even still there?_

He was, biting hard into the palm of his hand because Levi hadn't seen so many self burns since Mike tried to ask out Petra. He carefully wiped the saliva away before answering.

_i get it. damn but you're a bit of a motor-mouth aren't you? i know a wannabe scientist who you could geek out with. spends all their time spewing shit the same way. you'd get along like a house on fire_

_Yeah? Your friend should meet Armin then. He claims it's just science, but I personally think he's been possessed since high school and can now speak in tongues._

A split second was all it took for Levi to find Armin's page connected to Eren's. Ah. Environmental science. Why the hell was he surrounded by so many smart people?

_heh. maybe we should get the shits together sometime_

_Hell yeah! Sounds like a plan._

It sounded like code. Levi might want to meet with Eren and Eren (astoundingly) might want to meet with Levi, but neither would actually say it. It was easier, safer, to talk about mutual friends meeting instead.

Which was how they started a conversation about everyone who wasn't them. About Hange and Armin, Erwin and Mikasa, Mike and Petra and that asshole named Jean. Still, in tiny ways their own lives bled in. Like how Hange was actually Levi's coworker at the local grocery store (and Eren didn't sneer), how Eren was desperate to get a degree under his belt (and Levi didn't mock); stupid little things like how they preferred their peanut butter and how they organized their books and whether skinny jeans were pretentious articles of clothing. When with heart pounding Levi admitted that he'd been about to start season 2 of _Sense8_ last night, Eren responded in all caps that he'd already binged it. It was the smallest, yet most important thing that passed between them.

Conversation spewed forth until an hour had passed without Levi realizing. He stopped, fingers cramping, thinking about how texting was always easier. He liked the buffer it provided.

He liked Eren.

_You realize how much trouble I'm in, right?_ Eren typed. Levi stared hard at the message, not sure if his tired eyes were reading it right.

_the fuck you talking about?_

_Maybe the fact that this isn't a personal chat? I'm not exactly supposed to ditch work and flirt through the company's helpline. Do you even have another problem to report?_

Levi couldn't move his arms. He sure as hell couldn't fire his useless brain up to compose a response. Yes, the long days and nights were definitely getting to him. He was exhausted. It had absolutely nothing to do with the word 'flirt’ now staring him in the face.

Luckily Eren still had more to say.

_I... might have asked my coworkers to transfer you if they saw your IP address again. Didn’t go all ‘Captain Netflix’ on you in case I got the wrong guy, but… yeah. Not that I thought you would be contacting us again. Unless you did have another problem. (Oh god, do you?) But, you know, not for_ me _or anything._

He wasn't sure he remembered how to breathe. Shit. Wasn't that important?

_Levi?_

Hesitantly, he typed.

_only problem is worrying about whether you've hit your head, dumbass_

_…What?_

_why the fuck would you be interested in me?_

Levi hung his head until he heard the tiny ‘bing!’ of a new message arriving.

_No idea ;) Thanks for the chat, Levi._

Eren's profile disappeared. The chat ended. It was abrupt and not unlike a good, solid punch to the gut. This time Levi really couldn't breathe until he saw the review box that popped up next.

It wasn't the standard 'Was your service satisfactory?' question. Levi didn't know what the hell kind of technological voodoo Eren had pulled, but now the box read:

_What is the most frequently occurring number in the Star Trek universe?_

Below the question were four choices. Bewildered, Levi clicked on '47.'

_Looks like the Federation trained you well, Captain Levi! I knew it would. Maybe you'll find this number just as significant?_

He stared at the ten digits of the phone number for a good, long minute. Then Levi scrambled, writing it on scrap paper and in his calendar and taking a picture of it too, just for good measure. He paused with his cellphone clutched in his hands.

"Well fuck me," Levi whispered, wondering if for the first time in a long time that phrase might not just be metaphorical. He smirked, checking the clock. It was nearing midnight.

Levi stretched out on his shitty couch, one arm behind his head. With the other he pressed speed-dial.

He hoped Erwin was asleep. He hoped he got to wake him up. This time the news would be worth it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Star Trek idea is based entirely off of [this real life Netflix employee](https://venturebeat.com/2013/10/11/awesome-netflix-customer-service-conversation/). I saw the article while I was halfway through writing and just had to incorporate it :D


End file.
